Problem Children
by mandaree1
Summary: The triplets handle bullies differently.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!**

 **Title: Problem Children**

 **Summary: The triplets handle bullies differently.**

 **Setting: The Reboot, Pre-Canon**

 **...**

One of the biggest rules of the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook- you don't fight bullies.

Secretly, Donald's always been a bit displeased by that rule. It's not that he _wants_ Huey to go around picking fights- of course he doesn't- but teaching kids that going to the teachers always makes problems go away isn't something he's fond of. Adults aren't perfect. Saying otherwise is dishonest and, admittedly, just an attempt to keep them in control.

(Donald wonders if maybe he's more like Scrooge than he cares to believe, when he thinks like that. Trying to find a double-edged sword in a butter knife.)

The teacher doesn't work. The principal says he'll get on it but nothing of note happens. Donald wishes he was surprised.

Huey has never been the type to smash his head against a brick wall. He's smarter than that. When he pulls Louie and Dewey close and jokingly exclaims, "hey, I've got my own personal body doubles!" Donald knows that he's found a solution.

People have always liked to make jokes about lumping the three together. Donald knows his boys well enough to know they hear these things, rub their metaphorical hands together, and learn to use it to their advantage.

'Huey' still goes to school. They all do. 'Huey' just so happens to change throughout the day, sometimes coming into class with slumped shoulders and sometimes with balled hands. Some days he's quiet as a mouse. Other days he kicks the kid in front of him- the one Huey's been having trouble with- and smirks when he whirls around. Dewey and Louie both are much faster than any random bully- or maybe they're just better at dodging any attempts at being cornered.

This all works fine and dandy. That is, until the principal calls.

* * *

Dewey is the adventurer. Dewey wants to be the duck who's remembered. Dewey likes to follow his own rules when Donald isn't looking. It's a bit concerning at times, but Dewey has a good sense of morality to him, so overall it's not that bad. He trusts him to make the best choice he can.

Donald isn't surprised when the phone call comes. Disappointed in how the whole ordeal is handled, yes, but not surprised.

He makes sure to let the principal know it, too. "You let this happen on school grounds?" He poked his feathery chest as he ranted. "And you're blaming _my_ nephew for _your_ negligence?"

"Mr. Duck." He pushed the hand away. "Your nephew destroyed the cafeteria."

"He protected his brother. Don't you _ever_ punish him for that."

Louie doesn't talk the whole way home, but no one expects him to, either. He pulls the back of his hood over his head in an effort to hide his black eye, shoves his hands in his pockets, slumps in the seat, and stares at his webbed feet. Donald knows not to be too harsh on him right now- he blames himself for not being quick enough.

Dewey does the talking for him, waving his bruised hands. "You shoulda seen me, Uncle Donald! I ducked between his legs like Michigan Smith!" He mimed a punching movement, the kind you see boxers do in the movies. "Then, when he tried to go for my face, I grabbed a tray! He smashed his hand so hard you could hear the clang all the way up to the top floor!"

"Dewey," Donald says, sighing. "I'm not mad at you. But you can't let this become a habit, okay? This could've gone on your permanent record."

He watches in the rearview mirror as the middle boy's face fell. "But he punched Louie!"

" _Dewford_ ," Huey hisses very pointedly.

" _Hubert_ ," Dewey returns, mostly just to annoy him.

Louie pretends not to hear them.

They coast to a stop at a red light. Donald breaks his stiff driving rules to turn around and ruffle Dewey's feathers. "I'm proud of you for taking care of your brother, but going around picking fights is bad. So don't do it, okay?"

"Okay, Uncle Donald," Dewey says obediently. "I won't pick fights." He perked up as Donald swiveled around. "But I can finish them, right?"

"Of course you can." Donald flicked on the turn signal. "I'd hate for you boys to be injured because you don't fight back."

* * *

Things go quiet thereafter. The trio is avoided, in fact, as if they carry some sort of dangerous reputation to them. Dewey proudly tells Donald it's because of how well he defended himself. Donald notices that Louie has gone suspiciously quiet on the matter.

Louie, in his own right, concerns Donald the most. He's the youngest of the trio, and in many ways the most sensitive. Perhaps that's why he's the most disillusioned of them- Huey wants mystery, Dewey wants adventure, Louie wants cash. He wants to make enough money that he can hide away and never have to work another day afterwards. And Donald knows he looks too much into it- Louie is also notoriously lazy- but it reminds him of things he's left behind him, and that's scary. Donald doesn't want what's behind him to effect what's in _front_ of him.

(He likes to pretend he's over all of it. He's not.)

"He's movin' away!" Dewey exclaims when they get into the car one day. "About time, if you ask me. The school was getting too big for the both of us."

Huey gave him a good-natured shove "Oh, quit acting like you don't hide every time you see him."

"Ah, let 'em have his moment." Louie contently kicked his feet up on the arm rest. "It's not every day you can destroy public property and _not_ end up in jail."

Dewey laughs and drapes an arm around the youngest boy's shoulders. "It's nice to know _somebody_ is on my side."

That night, Donald wakes to the tiniest bit of movement on the house boat. He was never a restless sleeper; that is, he wasn't until the boys came into his life. It's Louie, which is about what he expected- Donald's wondered when he'd get up the gumption to hide the evidence. He follows at a distance. It's not ideal, but if he knows what the boy is up to, he can better curb delinquent behavior. It's not long before he finds himself turning into a quiet alleyway. Donald hears a familiar _flink!_ noise, and then something in Louie's hands is slowly catching on fire.

They aren't allowed to use lighters or matches.

Donald has perfected the tried and trust Parent Voice by now. " _Lewis Duck!_ "

Louie jumps with a squawk, and the burning thing hits the asphalt. "Cheese and crackers- Uncle Donald! You almost made me burn my hand!"

Donald takes a few steps closer in order to properly survey the damage. It's a book, brown leather cover, the pages just barely singed. "And what's all this?"

"School project."

He raised an eyebrow. "To burn a _book_?"

"Well, I mean..." Louie squints for a second, smacks his lips, and finally perks up. "It's a simulation! Of- of the book burning era, yeah. We were to each burn a book from our personal library and chart the ef-"

"Louie."

His smile is full of the effort it takes to be effortless. "Yes, Uncle Donald?"

"You don't _have_ a personal library."

His shoulders slumped. "Look, I'm tired, okay? I'm no good at this stuff when I'm tired."

 _Lying_ , Donald supplies mentally. His concern skyrocketed- he hated it when the boys didn't get the right amount of sleep. "What is it really?"

He mumbled it into his hoodie.

" _Lewis_."

"It's a diary, okay?" Louie suddenly exploded, all flinging limbs and quivering voice, before settling back into his usual manner- shoulders slumped, eyes not quite meeting. "Just stop calling me that, please? It's bad enough Dewey and Huey do it."

"A diary?" Donald cocks his head to the side. Louie isn't the type to keep a diary. At least, not in a written sense. He might have something on his phone somewhere, but there's overprotective and then there's controlling, and he's not interested in toeing that line. "Why are you burning a diary in the middle of the street in the middle of the night?"

"Where else would I burn it?" His gaze is steady now; accepting. "You can't burn stuff on a boat, Uncle Donald. I mean, you _can_ , but it just feels taboo. Besides- the smoke woulda woken you all up."

He waves his hand at the diary. "Is this yours?"

"Would I be burning it if it were mine?"

"Did you steal this?"

Louie doesn't answer that. "I gotta burn it, Uncle Donald. I promised a guy I would."

Donald finds himself between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, he'd hate to teach any of the boys to not keep their promises. On the other hand, this is probably illegal. He risked a look around and found the alley as empty as ever. "You're grounded."

"Mmhmm." He's bent at the knees now, holding the flickering flame to the edges. "I know."

"Give me that!" Donald takes the offered lighter from Louie's reluctant hand. "You don't know what you're doing. Gimme that book."

Donald resigns himself to being an unconventional parent as he and his youngest nephew sit on the edge of the curb together, watching a journal wither into ashes. It takes multiple tries, but they're both quietly patient with this particular break in societal code.

"I'm not smart like Huey," Louie says finally, staring at the journal, "and I'm not tough like Dewey," here, he shuffled his hands in his pockets, "but I _am_ crafty."

He had a sneaking suspicion. "Blackmail?"

He shrugged.

Donald pulled Louie into a side-hug. "You _are_ smart, and you _are_ tough." He squeezed him tight. "And you're also super mega grounded. If something like this ever happens again you'll be in the biggest trouble ever."

"Yes, Uncle Donald," Louie intones, but his eyes are glowing when they collect the ashes and leave them in a fast food restaurant trash can.

 **Author's Note: True bravery is writing a story for a show you've never seen the original of but really enjoy the reboot of. Writing the last half of it at four in the morning to be proofread before posting is just how I roll. =)**

 **This is less of a story and more of a character piece, I guess? There's no real plot- just testing the waters with how the triplets solve problems. Take it how you will.**

 **Also, Louie absolutely did not break into a house in the middle of the night to steal a diary to make him lay off him and his brothers. That's not what I'm implying at all. (That's exactly what I'm implying, who am I kidding)**

 **NOTE: this is a cartoonishly simple way of portraying bullying. I'm sure everyone knows this, but I'd just like to add that on.**

 **-Mandaree1**


End file.
